


My pleasure

by Letha



Category: Sherlock (TV show)
Genre: Anal Plug, Dom/sub Play, F/F, Mild violence in the context of consensual sex, Multiple Orgasms, Nipple Clamps, PWP, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Temperature Play, many toys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-07
Updated: 2018-02-07
Packaged: 2019-03-15 01:57:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,604
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13603158
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Letha/pseuds/Letha
Summary: It's all play and pleasure between these two.





	My pleasure

**Author's Note:**

> This is unbetaed and unedited. Even if this is all explicitely consensual between the two, I must add trigger warnings for: hair yanking, spanking and whip action. If it's not your cuppa, I'm sorry but you probably won't enjoy this. That said, there's also multiple orgasms involved, so...
> 
> That said, this has been on my WIP folder for a few years now, and being ready and done fills me with a feeling of success.
> 
> Also, in my mind, this is just casual sex.

Molly can feel Irene’s gaze on her body, those sky blue irises sweeping down and up her. The darkness behind her eye covers, though, leave her able to imagine the dangle of Irene’s sheer lace dolly on her curves and is left to wonder whether Irene’s distance comes from her touching herself or merely observing. Molly feels herself blush, her lips part as she breathes through them. It doesn’t matter how hard she tries to get more comfortable; Molly’s hands are tightly tied to the headboard, which means there’s not much room for her to move. She groans.

“Stay still.” Those purred words shoot a wave of heat down Molly’s body. She tries her best not to squeeze her legs together. She fails. “Still,” Irene insists. Her heels and the sharp crack of leather against the bedpost accent the order.

Molly suppresses a shiver. She feels the cold, soft kiss of the riding crop along her cheek, tracing her lips, and then down the side of her neck. She hears a humm as Irene moves its tip across her collarbone and between her breasts, the leather outlining the curve of her left breast, then pushing against her hardened nipple. Molly moans, her back arching. She can’t help it.

 

“What did I tell you, Molly?” Irene commands, and Molly shakily lays back down on the mattress. “Good.”

Molly sighs brokenly, sexual frustration too big to remain hidden. Irene likes that. She lets the leather tip trace down Molly’s stomach towards her cunt. She lowers it further onto her legs, slapping them gently in reprimend when Molly parts them, yet seizing the moment to linger around sensitive spots. Molly bites her lips. Oh god. She moans softly. Irene apparently approves of her reaction, because she echoes the sound and moves closer.

The echo of high heels against shiny tiles comes before a soft fabric and a warm body presses against her. There is a kiss left on Molly’s inner thigh, and the trace of Irene’s tongue towards her labia. Molly wishes she didn’t have the eye cover on; she wishes she could see how breathless and aroused Irene looks.

Irene moves closer; Molly waits. “Spread your legs wider,” Irene demands in a low, yet authoritative voice. Molly does as requested, and god, she can feel her warm, wet core being exposed as she does and Irene’s hot breath centimetres away from her cunt. The dominatrix licks between her labia, up and then down, and then softly into her. Molly shivers and gasps and moves against the foreign yet welcome action. She cranes her head back as Irene sucks on her labia. There is a moan that fills the room, and really, it could be from either of them.

Irene moves away gently with a ragged breath. The cold air on her wet cunt makes Molly shiver and moan.

The precise touch of a leather tip moves to caress the sensitive skin on Molly’s inner thighs. Her legs spasm and receive a gentle smack in response. She groans.  
The riding crop outlines her cunt. She tries her best not to shiver as Irene moves ever so slowly, teasing, torturing her, making her yearn and not giving her anything.

 

There is a smile on Irene’s voice when she comments, “You are a mess. Look at you, all wet already.” Irene moans the words, sends a wave of hunger down Molly’s body.

Irene’s long nails scratch her skin now. Those long, sharp claws seem to set her flesh on fire as they move down, to her nipples, to her belly button... Molly gasps when Irene’s nails find her labia with feathery motions.

“Do you like this, Molly?”

“Yes,” she croaks.

“Yes, what?”

“Yes, Miss Adler.”

“Good girl.”

“Christ,” Molly sighs.

Irene stops all contact with her. “What have I told you about talking when not being addressed, Molly?”

Her skin burns deliciously. There is a pause as Molly recollects herself enough to answer. She’s delighted and scared for scratch marks at the same time. “That  
I can’t, Miss Adler.”

“Then why did you do it?”

“Because I’m a bad girl, Miss Adler. Because I’m a bad, bad girl who is quite wet right now and would very much like to come to orgasm already.”

Molly can hear Irene’s ragged breathing and something that resembles thick swallowing. “You are so beautiful, especially when you are this wet,” Irene gasps out.

Molly moans. She wants to squeeze her legs together again but knows she mustn’t.  
Irene’s hands caress her naked body, tracing up and to her wrists. She unties her sub, but Molly remains practically still.

“You can rub your wrists if you want.” Molly does. “Good. Now, you’re going to bend over the bed. That’s a good girl. No, let the blindfold on.”

It takes a moment for Molly to move, guided by Irene’s hand, to the position she’s required to be in. There are pillows under her knees, previously prepared, probably, by her dom to prevent the story telling rug burn. She feels the riding crop caress the inner side of her right ankle, then move up along her legs, the inner bit of her knees, and then her inner thighs. She lets out a shaky breath, anticipating the touch that fails to come. And suddenly, it’s there, and Molly lets out the air she had been holding; Irene moans. Molly’s back arches up when she feels the faintest hint of nails on her labia, then a more firm touch of finger, and oh, the sensation when Irene has reached into her soft, wet core. Molly moans, knowing however much she wants to, she can’t push back to impale herself on Irene’s digit, but wanting to, wishing she could, because the finger is barely in her, just the tip; a tease, a delicious tease.

The finger moves minutely, stroking her, exploring little by little, but is removed shortly afterward. A groan dies in Molly’s throat. She hears the sound of heels walking away from her again, then a door — minibar? — opening, then closing. She rests her cheek on soft silk bed sheets and tries to breathe. Two dishes are set aside on a table by the bed, a meter or so away from where Molly is.

“I prepared these this morning, especially for you.” Cutlery noise, then... shovelling? Digging? “Mmm, this might take a bit. We can start with the other things I have here. Let’s see,” she chimes.

Heels again, this time approaching. Molly’s hair is in a ponytail, and Irene moves it away, revealing her neck. Molly awaits for nails or tongue to come into contact with her skin, yet Irene’s hand is soon gone and replaced by something colder, wetter... Oh. It drips down her neck and to the front of it, and the cold, freezing contact of the ice cube water drops on her skin threatens to make her shiver. And she does as soon as the cube is placed and dragged down her spine, slowly, and then she moans, gasps, hisses, and the ice cube moves all over her back and neck, her arms, her legs. Soon it dissolves, and Irene replaces the traces of cold water with soft warm licks of tongue. A cold hand reaches around to pinch Molly’s nipple.

“Is this alright, darling?”

Molly gasps, nods with want and despair. More, she wishes to say, maybe she even says it, because before she knows it, there is an ice cube pressed between her thighs and moving between her legs. Its cold presence is met with a warm wet core and it’s too much and not enough at the same time.

“Fuck,” Molly shivers, unable to hold back.

“Why, you are one eager girl, Molly.”

“Please, miss Adler. Please,” she begs.

“Shhh, darling. Shush now. Remember your place. I will fuck you, but before that we shall play a little.”

“More, Miss Adler?”

Irene chuckles. “If it is too much, dear, you can use your safe word anytime.” Molly bites her lips and shakes her head. “Good. Then, as I was saying, we shall play now. I got these toys especially for you. They should be ready now.”

Molly can hear Irene get the dishes. She places them even closer to Molly’s knees. They emanate cold. Ice cubes and toys, then, probably. Ah, yes. There is a click followed by buzzing noises, so those may just be vibrating toys. Molly’s mouth waters at the prospect.

Irene reaches around to grab Molly’s breasts. She squeezes them and rolls them. Her expert fingertips find hardened nipples and Molly has to bite her lower lip not to scream out in pleasure. Irene rolls the hard buds for a while, then replaces her fingers with cold nail clams. They vibrate on a maddeningly low speed, and Molly feels her body react by pushing itself further against Irene’s.

Irene pulls back and spanks her playfully. “Naughty,” she purrs. A click and buzz after, both Molly’s nipples are inside the petite vibrators.

Another rummaging between ice cubes later, Irene’s cold fingers part Molly’s labia again. Molly arches up as the wandering tongue further warms up her cunt. Irene humms and sighs with pleasure when her tongue is in Molly. It slithers and moves and draws out gasps and incoherent mutterings from both of them. Irene then guides her fingers against Molly’s clitoris and draws circles against it. Molly shivers and groans. The hot tongue moves then to her arsehole.

Molly unwantedly moves away from that unexpected intrusion. “What are you doing?”

“What does it feel like I’m doing?” Irene’s tone drips playful sarcasm as she pulls Molly’s buttcheeks apart again.

“I’ve never— I’ve never done that,” Molly admits.

Irene stops. “Is this okay?”

“I—” she swallows. Irene waits. “I’m willing to try it, yes. But be gentle. Please.”

“Of course.” Irene strokes the curves of her hips and squeezes Molly’s arse. “You know the safeword, yes? Just in case?”

Molly nods.

The squeeze turns into nails digging into her flesh and then into a full on set of spanks. When her arsehole is exposed again, the nervousness has subsided a little, enough to give way to pleasurable wonder.

The tongue finds its way back against her rim while thumbs massage her labia. It’s strange, a little painful, yet delicious. Molly is soon drooling against the bed sheets while Irene’s tongue fucks her arse.

She moans when the intrusion is removed and replaced with a very cold double dildo that presses into her wet cunt with little resistance. It fills her up halfway through when she can feel another bud pressing into her arse. She moans and tries not to clench, not to tighten.

Irene strokes her arse and gives it a small pat of encouragement. She pulls the cold dildo back and licks the rim again before she finally pushes both ends into her fully.

Molly moans and her whole body tightens.

Irene strokes her. “Alright?”

“Give me a moment,” Molly responds, her body getting used to the toy.

They remain still, breathing, feeling, for a while. It’s silent, the smell of sex the only tell tale of what they are doing there. Molly nods her readiness.

“Take off the blindfold,” Irene moans while she moves to hold the dildo once more. “I want you to see me while I fuck you up the arse.”

Molly does as instructed and as soon as her eyes adjust to the brightness, she meets Irene’s eyes in the reflection of the mirror in front of her. God. It is too much, too amazing. She wants more. She says so. Irene nods and moves the toy. She fucks her softly first, shallow strokes and gentle movements of the wrist, then faster, harder, pulling her hair, all the while looking dashing and flustered and commanding behind her.

Molly fucks herself against the toy too, and she begins to drip down her legs, against Irene’s hand, onto the floor. She drips and blabbers and moans. She takes and squeezes and relaxes and craves. She wants. She wants and gets. She gets. Irene is fucking her and pulling her hair and breathing hard. Irene’s breasts bounce with every movement into and out of Molly, and her hair looks a mess and she is fucking her and impaling her and taking her the way she wants.

And oh. Oh god. Molly can feel it rising. Can feel it bubbling in her. Around her. Growing. It grows and peaks and oh. There. It’s right there and it overrides all her senses. She hears herself scream as she comes, Irene moving in her still and saying something in that gorgeous voice and as Molly comes it sounds far away but she rides it and rides it until she can’t anymore. She shivers and is about to still Irene’s hand when she can feel it bubbling and rising again and it threatens to topple her over as she comes once more, and Irene moves and grabs her nipple clasped breast and god it’s too much.

Molly’s cunt is freed from the toy as she collapses face first onto the bed. But Irene replaces it with her tongue, and it’s too much, the way she licks her cum.

“Please stop god please oh god no no keep it up god I’m gonna— again— god how—”

Her throat is hoarse when she cums again with a scream. Irene licks her softly now, cleaning her and swallowing. Molly shivers and relaxes again as Irene strokes her every curve.

“God, you are beautiful.”

Molly smiles. She feels spent, tired. “I had never before... Never. I’ve never come three times in a row before. Wow.”

Irene smiles and strokes her hair. “Multiple orgasms aren’t a luxury, dear. They are a right. With my subs, they are a must.”

“I’m so lucky, then.”

“Indeed.” Irene moves the hair away from Molly’s neck and nibbles on the sensitive spot right there, below her ear. “You are also a very inconsiderate sub. Where is my treat?” Irene’s playful pout makes Molly smile.

“Can I do you now? Please?”

Irene smirks and crawls onto the bed. “Please, do.”

Molly gathers enough strength to crawl between Irene’s legs and lay against her. She kisses her deeply, passionately, slowly, thoroughly. Irene moans and moves underneath her. The nipple clamps come off as their chests rub against each other.

Irene’s breasts fit in her hands so perfectly, almost like they had been molded to belong there. They taste like warm tea in a cold night. They smell like chocolate and lush. Molly takes Irene apart little by little, licking and nibbling over black lace, scratching the soft skin of her stomach under her dolly, pulling apart her legs until Irene is exposed and undone underneath her. Molly then gets under the skirt of Irene’s dress and between her legs, down on her, into her. She laps and sucks and licks and pants. She mouths against her wet labia and squirms her tongue in her. She licks the alphabet onto her clit, replaces the tongue with fingers when she tires. Irene comes too soon, too hard, but Molly doesn’t stop until Irene clutches her wrist, five orgasms and several curses later. Irene’s eyes are still squeezed close.

Molly breathes hard and crawls back up her. She rests her cheek against Irene’s breast, gathers her in her arms.

Irene is still shivering in delight when she opens her exhausted eyes and smiles. “You are one good student,” she purrs sleepily.

Molly chuckles. “I have the best teacher, love.”

Irene leans down to kiss her softly. “Thanks for coming over to play.”

“My pleasure.”


End file.
